


We Ate Eachother's Hearts on Serving Dishes

by emAeye



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, otp: lucky sirimus remrius wolf star, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-09
Updated: 2012-08-09
Packaged: 2017-11-11 18:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/481487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emAeye/pseuds/emAeye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Original Order of the Phoenix era. Remus and Sirius both suspect each other as spies and it all comes to a head over dinner. Very angsty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Ate Eachother's Hearts on Serving Dishes

Dinner wasn’t cold, for once.  
It wasn’t take-away, either.  
Surprise, surprise.

“I thought you’d like it, cooking together, after being gone for so long,” Sirius murmured softly, playing at his food with a fork, not bringing his eyes up to Remus’; nothing in the world could have made him look at the other in this moment.

“Yeah… it turned out nicely,” Remus assured softly, slowly, though he had hardly touched anything himself. His gaze was steady upon Sirius, his mouth just the faintest purse, slightly parted as if he wanted to say something, but tight at the corners as if he were forcing the words to stay in.

Why wouldn’t Sirius look at him? What did those grey eyes hide now? Remus could only imagine.

Why did Remus stare? What was he trying to get at? Sirius could only ignore his thoughts.

They had been apart for three weeks, which wasn’t uncommon lately, but things had taken a down turn while Remus was away with another werewolf clan: it had been discovered there was a spy in The Order. Accusations had been thrown all around, everyone panicked, everyone terrified. Their numbers were dropping left and right, people dying and being tortured unto insanity.

The Order wasn’t winning, but they had been holding their ground at least, refusing to back down to the threat that was Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. And now the news of a spy set them all on edge, made enemies of husbands and wives, of best friends and lovers.

No one was safe.  
Everyone was a culprit.

“You’ve seen James, then?” Remus asked after a long silence, still staring at Sirius, neither of them putting up the pretense of eating anymore.

The play of domestic life was on the table, their hearts on those serving dishes, and it made everything taste cold and bitter and wrong. But their hearts were there, out in the open, grey on the outs and just faintly pink in the deep center, waiting to be pierced and broken and torn apart by savage hands and cruel teeth. Domestic life wasn’t for them anymore, and maybe it never had been.

Maybe it was a lie.  
Maybe everything was a lie.  
Did they even know each other?

How many secrets had Sirius kept? How many times had he deterred questions with a shrug and a charming wink? How many times had Sirius tried to start a fight for no reason? He was always on the brink of rage, ready to burst.

How many times had Remus stayed quiet when Sirius asked questions? Why was he keeping secrets now? Why did he avoid everything so much? He always hid himself behind a stone-faced composure that never let anything out.

They were both good at lying.  
They were masters of the art.

They knew how to dance around the truth and bat away questions and change subjects and lie through their teeth in a tune so perfect that no songbird could ever hope to match. 

_Everything was a lie._

“No,” Sirius answered, finally bringing his eyes up to Remus’. Sirius sat up straight, stopped slouching down, “Not since…” He made a noncommittal shrug with one shoulder. Remus didn’t know that Sirius wasn’t the secret-keeper, and he never would. Sirius couldn’t risk it.

“Ah,” Remus nodded faintly in acceptance of the answer. Not since Sirius had gone out there to have the Fidelius Charm put on him. 

For a long moment the two just stared at each other, anger and hurt brewing and simmering; their hearts growing that bit colder, that bit greyer, that bit harder.

And then it all came to a boil.

They moved at the same time, dishes and _lies_ and _hearts_ falling to the floor in loud crashes as they met in the center of the table. Buttons were popped, shirts ripped, trousers torn and zippers broken as they tried to claw and bite and dig their way into one another. The only sound their heavy breaths, their grunts and growls of inordinate passion and anger and pain. Blood seeped and bruises formed, flesh caught under nails and crushed between teeth, bodies became dirty and used and useless.

They clung together after cries of anguished pleasure, fingers tangled in hair and around throats and dug into skin so deeply that the pounding of hearts and rushing of blood was felt in every fiber, every nerve. Deep breaths choked and they suffocated words with mouths smashing together and refusing to part until their humming bodies felt only pain.

Remus finally rest his forehead against Sirius’ chest, clinging to the edges of his torn shirt, fingers pressed into skin. He wanted in that chest. He wanted to see that heart beating and feel it in his hands and know, _know_ , that it belonged to him. Sirius’ hands held Remus at the back and curve of the neck, nails scraping flesh and fingers trying to find a pulse that he needed to know was only for him.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Remus whispered, eyes squeezed shut, hands shaking.

“We’re going to make it,” Sirius grasped Remus by the hair and jaw, forced the other’s face to come up to his.

Grey eyes met amber and hearts turned red and raw and alive again.

This wasn’t a lie.  
Their life was not a lie.  
They, together, _were not a lie_.

Sirius kissed him upon the mouth, eyes just as hurting and beaten and afraid as Remus’ as their mouths parted once more. Foreheads pressed together, grips slackened, worries sated for now.

“I promise, Remus.”

—-

The next night James and Lily were murdered.


End file.
